


Day Off

by Fire_Cooking



Category: Fireman Sam (Cartoon)
Genre: AU, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Tragedy, Blood, Blood and Injury, Canonical Character Death, Death, Everyone Is Gay, Gay Male Character, Head Injury, Heavy Angst, M/M, Major Character Injury, Permanent Injury, Poison, Poisoning, backwards charater death fix, cannon alteration, charater death au, old army stories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-19 00:12:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18128384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fire_Cooking/pseuds/Fire_Cooking
Summary: Placed after Deep Trouble- I wanted to be sad, so I decided to fix cannon and make the ending of Deep Trouble much more realistic. By making him dead, enjoy!





	Day Off

“ _Sam! Oh Sam!”_

He had kept his arms around Sam, well only to support him, Steele was yelling into the air and his radio, a bus was on the way. Penny was trying to corral Trevor and the twins away. It was procedure but inside he knew it was somewhat unfair, but the procedure said that the resting place between his arms and on the lap of Steele was where Sam had to stay until the bus came. Any minute it would be here, and they would use some smelling salts, and Sam would wake up and hold him. He was so scared, Sam always got up, kicking and biting and ready to help, it wasn't like him to not be there and in charge. It wasn't a comfort that Sam was in his arms this time, it was not a comfort that Steele was yelling in his ear, it wasn't a comfort the twins where around, it wasn't a comfort Penny was doing her best to fix the situation. It was a crime that on his day off Sam's helpfulness and his duty to others finally got him. It would have happened eventually, he knew it would catch them all, Steele still had scars that he'd never unsee. But Sam, invincible Sam, fearless Sam, hero Sam, - _his_ \- Sam.

Sirens carried through the air, new and close. Deep inside he knew this would need more than a band aid and some smelling salts.

  
  


~~~~

  
  


Dust Pneumonia, oblique displaced fracture in his left femur, 7 broken ribs, a punctured lung, a concussion, severe blood loss from multiple lacerations, internal bleeding, and Hypoxia.

“Elvis, why don't you go home and sleep?” Penny chirped softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. The thought of home, the cold empty bed and the whirring gadgets and do-hickys he didn't even know the function of.

“Or, how about a walk to the station for some Tea, you could also do with a shower and change of clothes, Cridlington.” Steele called.

He still didn't want to leave Sam's side. If Sam woke up and he wasn't there, he would never forgive himself. But Steele was firm, and he couldn't deny the dry blood still on him was not a good look. He reluctantly stood from the chair.

“Stay with him, Penny?”

“Of course Elvis.”

Steele followed Elvis out of the hospital room. They where quiet in the halls. Along the quiet street Steele finally choke up a few words.

“Cridlington, I'm sorry.”

Elvis chewed on those seldom heard words for a little longer than he should have.

“For what, sir?”

“I'm just sorry, Cridlington, It was no one's fault, but I'm sorry Sam had to get hurt.”

“It's OK sir, as you said it was no ones fault.”

Elvis had already come to terms that most accidents where no one fault, who was he going to blame for Sam's current state? Penny for buying a house she didn't know was unsafe? The town for not knowing about the uncharted mine? Trevor for not being there earlier? The weed's in the garden?

“Is there, anything on your mind, Elvis?”

Elvis felt his ears tingle at the sound of his chosen name from Steele.

“Well.” Elvis shuffled a bit at the ground, there was a lot on his mind, but he really didn't know what. “Well sir, it's just a lot, but, it was his day off.”

“It could have happened any day to anyone, Elvis.”

“I know sir, but, it was his day off.”

Steele was quiet for a little longer as they got closer to the fire house.

“His day off is the day it finally caught up with him.” Steele announced, almost like he had thought of it himself, even if he knew he didn't.

The lull continued until the reached the station.

“I'll put the kettle on sir.” Elvis chimed, stating to skip to the sink to fill the kettle. Steele coughed.

“Sit down, Elvis, I'll get the tea.” Steele said with an air of command, but a hint of sympathy. Elvis stopped and looked back at Steele confused as always. “I said sit down boy.” Steele called. Elvis scrambled to a chair at the table.

“Your making tea, sir?” Elvis said, blankly and quietly.

“Well, you are off duty, Elvis.” Steele said as he filled the kettle from the sink. Elvis blinked at Steele, honestly surprised.

“Well, uhm, that is correct sir.” Elvis looked at the table, folding his hands together on the old wooden surface.

“You know, when I was a young lad in the army.” Steel stopped to pick out tea bags, two bags of duke of earl for the cups. “We did many things that almost got us killed.”

“I imagine it came with the job.” Elvis said quietly.

“Once, I was in a trench, rats at my feet and, two men by my side waiting for retreat orders.” Elvis looked up at Steele, who was watching the tea colour the liquid. “One good hit, and the trench crumbled, it took all our might to get out of there. I climbed out with a broken arm, pulling Smith by his rifle and leaving Millard behind.” Steele went quiet, he gulped a but as he stirred the cups. “Being under that dirt left a lot of damage, I won't deny that Sam will need lots of time to heal, but he also was saved by people who cared about him, and never had to leave anyone behind. That alone will heal him where it counts, Elvis, your Sam will be quite alright.” Steele looked back at a pale and quiet Elvis.

“Your never wrong, sir.” Elvis said, something washing away in his expressions, bring a little light and colour back into his face. “You really never are.”

Steele gave a hearty chortle. “Quite so, Elvis, one or two lumps?”

“Five, sir.”

Steele choked a bit, but thanked god for dentistry and added the cubes of sugar into the hot tea after he removed the bags. He picked up the cups, and placed Elvis' in front of the slightly happier man. The phone rang, and Steele placed down his cup and answered it.

“Pontypandy fire station, Station officer Basil Steele speaking... Yes... Oh... Oh I see... I will take a message... It would be better if I did... Oh... Yes thank you... Good day to you too.”

Steele turned and looked at the man at the table, sipping on his sugar soution with a smile cresting his face, the stained clothes and his rugged hair not detracting from the glow inside, brightening the entire form. Steele collapsed his shoulders in contrast.

“Cridlington.”

Elvis snapped his gaze to Steele, feeling the command and call for respect in the elders voice. He sat up straight. “Yes sir?”

“I'm sorry, Cridlington.”

“For what sir?”

Steele felt the pain worsen from the boys lack of understanding.

“They didn't catch the arsenic in time, Sam is no longer with us, I'm sorry, Elvis.”

Elvis looked up at Steele, the light of his soul burning out with a sudden bang. Cold, with shivers starting to form on his skin, Elvis looked at the older man for the last glimmer of a cruel joke in the man.

“But they said- but they said they got him out in time, he had his lung reinflated, he had a plate put in his leg, he had two bags on plasma. They said- they said- they said he was going to be fine.”

Elvis's hands finally release the cup shaking in his hands, tea spilling and mixing with the tears now rolling down the man's face and dripping of of his chin and nose. He brought his hands to his face and tried to wipe his blurred vision clear, but just smeared salty tears across his features.

Steele knew the pain, and it buzzed in the back of his mind, but he also didn't know what to do. He'd run into thousands of burning buildings, but he's never seen one of his men cry like - _this_ -. As he stepped forewords to try and reach his heart out to the sobbing man at the table, a shrill scream sounded from the office. Elvis, tears still running and face turning red and raw from the salty liquid grazeing his skin, stood by instinct. Steele's felt something inside crack as he ran for the fax machine. Sounding the bell to go save the price shop again, Steele looked back on his one firefighter, scrambling to the door.

“Cridlington, you are on emotional probation until further notice, that is an Order.” The words felt bitter and harsh, and made him feel sick with himself, but he couldn't let this man run into a fire, or climb a ladder, or even get behind the wheel of Jupiter without the worry that he wouldn't make it. Steel, with one final glance bolted out the door, on his radio for Penny to meet him at location.

Elvis felt the words tear into his ears and burn through his skin, the tears still clouding his vision and the sobs shaking his entire core. He heard yelling and sirens and blaring, and then the station got quiet.

It was often quiet on late nights and early mornings when the young firefighter was working on his paper work or simply on duty for extra hours towards his promotions and titles, getting in extra time to work on anything and everything he would need for the years ahead of him. But at those moments Steel would be at home, tending to hobbies and listening to his radio. Trevor was probably at the skirt of another lovely lady in the town, or running late because of it. Penny was probably out training at another station, or running into fires in Newtown. Sam was probably at home in his shed, or with the twins at the park, or helping his neighbours with chores, or cleaning the streets, or getting ready to come into this station and do what he loved.

Sam wouldn't be waiting for the clock to strike 7 any more.

Elvis felt his knees give first, crashing him against the floor with a thud, his hands clawing at his face trying to wash away tears that clung to his skin and burned as a result.

The station was quiet, and it was going to stay that way.

 


End file.
